Carefully I close my bedroom door and sit down in front of my big wooden desk. It's a fine Nordic work, chosen by my mother, who is a real deco-freak. Basically, every single piece of furniture was examined and measured extensively by her. Sometimes, I even wonder why Mum decided to become a marine biologist instead of starting a career as an interior designer. She's so talented at setting up rooms. One can really see how much love my mother furnished my room with: the picturesque ceiling depicting the starry sky, the matching beige walls – even my wooden bookshelf fits perfectly into this neat and tidy idyll. Only I don't belong here with my messy thoughts.
Suddenly I feel a deep pain crawling up my chest - something that has become my constant companion during these two years. First, I was barely able to deal with it, but lately, I have found a way how to handle it. Furthermore, I discovered that it returns from time to time. I don't know when, but the moment it does, I try to divide it in different colours and then build a pattern out of them. It calms me down and makes me feel like I can control it.
A knock at the door makes me flinch. "Come in", I say with a low voice. James enters the room.
"Are you okay?", he says while closing the door.
"Uhm - actually I'm pretty confused." Over time, I have started using the word 'confused' instead of saying I'm depressed.
"Which pattern?", Jimeny whispers, his gaze fixed on me. It's kind of a game between my brother and me: he asks me this very question and I answer which colours I have selected. It's another way to describe my feelings.
"Dark khaki waves with goldenrod accents and olive dots."
"Fear, right?" It took James a while to interpret the colours correctly, but now he's got it. I just nod in response because I'm scared of breaking into tears.
What's the matter with me? Why am I that anxious because of a nightmare and a couple of mocking jerks?
Jim, who just doesn't miss a thing, embraces me.
"Why can't I be normal, like the others?", I mumble into his shirt.
"Don't say so! Just because you have a different story than them, doesn't mean you're not normal", he scolds me and pushes me away a little to fix me with his eagle eyes. "You're the most talented girl I've ever met, and I am happy to have a sister like you."
I make a snorting noise. "Jimeny-"
"And your classmates are fools if they think they're somehow better than you are", James continues.
I raise my eyebrows doubtingly. "Since when are you that quick-witted?"
"Says who?" My brother makes a puzzled face and I try not to grin. "I do."
"Are you sure?" Now he's pulling faces and I can't help but burst out laughing. The pain is gone.
YOU ARE READING
Patterns of Kindness
Non-FictionTwo years ago, the now 17-year-old Allison Leroy was kidnapped by an artist called Callum Alexander Brooks, whose personality was split after the death of his beloved sister. Ever since, Allison has suffered from a trauma which was followed by diss...
